


Fill My Head

by comets_nix



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Don't know what exactly this is but it's soft, M/M, Scent Marking, Scenting, aroma - Freeform, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19353280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comets_nix/pseuds/comets_nix
Summary: Crowley would have followed him- he knew where he was headed. But... something caught the sensitive nose of the demon, much stronger than the old dust and usual familiar smell of the library.His eyes fixated on the angel currently walking away, which seemed to be the source of quite possibly the best smell Crowley had ever had the pleasure to breathe in in all his six thousand years of life.***(This is my first ever Good Omens fic, and it was written on a bet made at 1 in the morning, please be nice. I have no idea what I'm doing. Enjoy these sweet boys.)





	Fill My Head

There was only one reason why the doorbell to Aziraphale's bookshop would be going off at such odd hours of the night, despite the two closed signs in the window and the lock bolted tight. Only one supernatural reason why the angel wasn't rushing to the main room shouting about how obviously _closed_ the store was- and it casually made it's way to the back room through the darkened library.

Crowley didn't need to see where he was going, and didn't need to make himself heard anymore than the doorbell jingling in the silence of the night; the last customer long gone many hours ago. The angelic yellow glow of Aziraphale's hall lamp was like a beacon to him as the demon made his way to the angel's office. The lights of the library, and the office where Aziraphale currently sat, had a been dimmed for the evening, bathing the crowded and dusty room in a comfortable golden glow. Besides Aziraphale himself, Crowley had been the only other being ever allowed in that particular room- and to no mystery why. The walls were lined with not only the sacred books from all walks of human history, but the artifacts to go along with them as well. Hundreds of trinkets all scattered between the vast shelves of secret literature itself, floor to ceiling with countless stories and value. It was no wonder why Aziraphale kept the door locked tight and preferred it's insides gone unmentioned in the presence of anyone more... _persistent_ , than the two of them. It was a true privilege to Crowley every time the door remained open after-hours just for him to walk in. But he'd never admit to how it made whatever heart he had in his chest flutter at the thought of him- _a demon, of all things-_ given so much trust.

  
Which was why it took no second thought for him to stop dead in the doorway, and look down to where the angel sat at the desk; a wing-clad back to him.  
It was rare that the demon lounged in the office with the angel- but even more rare that either of them expose their wings in the modern days. Let alone it be Aziraphale of the two of them, and in such a small space with so many valuables.

  
Crowley stood in slight shock, gazing upon the white walls of feathers nearly folded shut as they draped over the back of Aziraphale's chair; their beauty turned a golden glow under the light of the old lamp next to them.

  
"Angel..." Crowley almost whispered.

  
Aziraphale snapped his head up from the open book that had held his attention so much, and swiveled the chair around to greet the demon.

  
"Crowley! It's about time you showed up, where have you been?"

  
"Oh, I was...just, you know. Uh... Angel, why... exactly..."

  
"What, dear? Spit it out?"

  
"Your wings, how's come you've just... Got them out, especially in here?" Crowley didn't move from his now statue like pose in the door frame.

  
Aziraphale's brows furrowed ever so slightly, and his head finally turned to look down at the giant wings laid out behind him.

  
"Oh! I'm terribly sorry about that! They must have just... Come out on accident. I suppose I got a little too invested in my book." Crowley swore he could see a blush appearing on the angel's checks, but his head turned away in embarrassment as his wings folded in tight and faded away.

  
"It's quite alright Angel, I know some beauties just simply must be appreciated every now and then." A devilish smile that held no spite exposed Crowley's teeth as he finally stepped in onto the plush carpet, stopping at Aziraphale's side. "You been in here all night then?"

  
"Only since closing..." The angel almost whispered, clearly still slightly embarassed at being caught flaunting his wings around as if they were nothing.

  
"Oh, Angel, please don't feel bad by the way, I can smell the shame on you and it really doesn't fit your good looks. I don't care your wings had escaped, you can't blame them after all-"

  
"Well, you called them beautiful..." It was half a question, half a statement of confusion as Aziraphale looked up to the black shades hiding Crowley's eyes. "They aren't even white anymore, you know. Not since I snuck into Hell... I can't quiet wash it out, it's like they just... Have a permanent tint, or something..."

  
"Oh, that will wear off, I promise you. As soon as Heaven forgets all about the stupid Apocalypse, and us totally saving the planet. And besides, they looked whiter than ever to me." Crowley smiled wide, placing an asking hand ever so lightly on Aziraphale's shoulder.

  
"Oh you're just saying that..." There was that smile again. Crowley relaxed his shoulders as the angel rolled his eyes jokingly, and stood from his chair. It looked as if he was about to say something else, but his lips closed slowly as they each realized how close they now were to each other.

  
The angel blinked twice, in an old instinctual way of offering trust, and slowly raised a hand to the side of Crowley's head. The demon knew what it wanted, and made no move to stop him.

  
"Can I?" Aziraphale breathed.

  
"Always." Crowley breathed even softer.

  
The angel's fingers brushed over the metal rims of Crowley's shades for a few seconds, before they gently took them in hand and pulled them forward off the demon's face. The familiar bright eyes of once a snake blinked in comfort as the glasses were set on the wooden desk.

  
"You know you don't have to wear them with me. I'll never fear your eyes. I don't think anyone ever will." The angel was always too soft and honest.

  
"Angel, how _sweet_ of you. Almost sounds like something two lovers would say to each other," the demon smirked, earning a victorious groan from the angel in front of him as Aziraphale stepped away towards the door.

And Crowley would have followed him- he knew where he was headed. Just the main living room where they would share an innocent drink, get almost too close to each other again, and relax for the first time in days. But... something caught the sensitive nose of the demon, much stronger than the old dust and usual familiar smell of the library.

  
His eyes fixated on the angel currently walking away, which seemed to be the source of quite possibly the best smell Crowley had ever had the pleasure to breathe in in all his six thousand years of life. It was not like any perfume or cologne the human stores sold in the city, or anywhere on Earth for that matter- it was more than the natural sent of worn in clothes, coffee, and aftershave the angel never even needed but always wore anyways.

  
It was... as if the two had mixed together and sat cooking for a millennium. A product of everything heavenly and pure and somehow so Aziraphale, it left Crowley's mouth slightly agape as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The chills sent down his back weren't just a product of the mind melting aroma, but also a rather strong urge of sudden territorial _want_. It would have frightened Crowley how focused his mind had suddenly become on watching, _wanting_ , that golden halo of hair walking through the door frame and out of sight... but hell, the precious bastard had to be up to something.

  
With Aziraphale finally out of the room, Crowley sucked in a breath as his mind cleared itself once again, now only wanting one thing. His feet were moving before he could realize out into the hall where he could smell it again, watching the angel stroll as if he was completely unaware of the current mess he was making of Crowley's sanity.

  
" _Angel_ ," He nearly hissed.

  
Aziraphale could clearly hear the aggressive change of tone, and whipped around to face the demon with questioning eyes.

  
"Uh... yes, Crowley?" His brows furrowed ever so slightly, the waver in his voice exposing the uncertainty in it- probably, Crowley realized, because he was standing only a few feet away staring at the angel with burning eyes. "My goodness, Crowley, your eyes..."

  
"Wha... What?" Crowley shook his head and blinked, trying to clear the cloud from his head as Aziraphale's sent got only more noticeable.

  
"Your pupils seem much wider than usual, what's wrong?"

  
"Uh, oh, _u-uh._.." He tried to explain himself, but all his words suddenly came out only in a growled sigh that did nothing to comfort the angel's concerns.

"Crowley, my dear, are you alright?" He stepped closer as the demon tried to shake his head clear once again with screwed shut eyes, but froze in his tracks when Crowley opened them once more, revealing blown black pupils that swallowed nearly all of the fiery orange surrounding them. "Oh..." He whispered, gazing up at him.

" _You smell_..." Crowley whispered back. Aziraphale felt his unease grow at the way his demon friend was looking at him... As if he was a fresh piece of meat on a string and Crowley was a snake again.

"Oh... I'm sorry Crowley." The angel's cheeks blushed with slight embarrassment as grey eyes found everything but the face boring into him. "I just showered this morning, but perhaps I-"

"What? No, no, no...." Crowley whispered, and there was for sure a hiss in there that time.

Aziraphale raised a brow and leaned back ever so slightly, but Crowley followed him by leaning forward just as much.

"Crowley, please, what's gotten into you?" There was no trace of fear in his voice any more. He knew whatever Crowley was going on about was just another one of the demon's rants, and would be over with shortly.

"You smell.... _good_ , Angel. What... uh, whu-what did you do, different?" Crowley leaned in a centimeter more, eyes closing- _fluttering closed, to be exact-_ as he took a long drag in through his nose. The angel remained silent as he eyed the demon up and down, confusion written across his face as he decided to stay quiet and let Crowley just... do whatever it was he was currently doing.

It then took all his might not to lean away when said demon stepped even closer, stooping in so his face was just inches from his blonde hair.

" _Crowley, please, explain yourself_ ," he breathed- as if speaking anything louder would somehow shatter the world around them. He could see the rise and fall of Crowley's chest in front of him, each strand of the shaggy red hair now at eye level, practically feel the beating of the inhuman heart.

" _Aziraphale... You've never smelled this good before..."_ Now they were getting somewhere. It was as if a layer of static had been draped over Crowley's brain and the only clear signal coming in was the angel in front of him.

" Oh... Well, thank you." Aziraphale smiled uncertain and played with his hands as Crowley got even closer, until he could feel the breath of another inhale over his forehead.

" _What is it?"_

"Well, just a small dab of something I put on this morning, nothing else I believe. Something I've had laying around for about three hundred years now, crafted from the olive branches back in Heaven. It's something all Angel's wear, they used to all put it on back in the day to make themselves smell more human. I just had run out of my usual stuff, and figured I should use some, and... I'm not sure why it's suddenly so pleasing to you, of all beings..."

"Well, you smell everything  _but_ human angel... _Please, can I._.." His eyes finally met Aziraphale's, pupils wider than ever before. They were each silent for a moment- the angel knowing exactly what the demon was referring to. He had seen other demons do it before, and if his memory worked well enough he was positive angels have done it as well.

_Dare he allow it?_

"I suppose so..."

Crowley paused, giving the angel any time needed to reconsider. Something neither angels nor demons ever did. But when the ethereal being only looked on with wide curious eyes, Crowley held his breath and slowly leaned in until his forehead finally met Aziraphale's.

Snake eyes closed once again as he breathed in deep. He savored it, toes curling and claws exposing themselves for the first time in years. Crowley's hands came up to grip Aziraphale's shoulders, careful not to snag the fine thread on his dark claws, and _damn he swore they had never felt that soft before_. His forehead pushed a little harder, until his nose found its home in the crook of Aziraphale's nasal bridge- butting hard as he inhaled deep once again. The angel's eyes were forced shut as the demons lips came up to meet them, laying a terribly soft kiss on upon his closed lids, crows feet lines, then the side of his nose. Crowley dragged his head down, running as much of his face over Aziraphale's as he physically could, until their temples met. He rubbed the side of his face over the angel's hairline, nose buried in the golden curls his whole world now revolved around. It _should_ feel rather uncomfortable for Aziraphale; human bodies weren't very much equipped for nuzzling or scent marking, but... Somehow, what Crowley was doing felt right in every way.

Aziraphale then began to feel his heart start racing as well. He had never seen such an affectionate side to Crowley before. He opened his eyes again and brought his hands up to meet the demons shoulders in return, for fear he might tear the skin right off his fingertips if they didn't find something to occupy themselves with. The demon rubbed his cheek against the angel's, gasping ever so lightly through his mouth.

_What must be going through that head of his?_ It was such a mystery to Aziraphale. When demons made familiar the sent of someone that had caught their attention, it was most certainly nothing like what Crowley was doing now. A deep rumble, which was more vibration than any actual noise, began to build up somewhere down within the demon's chest, and Aziraphale bit his lip to hid his smile at the sound of Crowley's purr. All the years they had known each other, he wondered if Crowley ever purred like the others. And there he was: curled around Aziraphale like the snake he once was and answering the angel's age old question. He never ceased to amaze him.

But then again, Aziraphale supposed Crowley had never been like other demons before.

The scarlet head of hair that felt softer than the finest silk pressed against the angel's mouth as Crowley moved lower. Fanged teeth revealed themselves as they prodded against the pale skin of Aziraphale's jugular and _oh_ , had it been anyone else in the entire universe, Aziraphale would have feared his eternal life. But this was Crowley; Crowley who had gone softer than he already had been before. Scenting _him_ , of all beings out there. Dragging his lethal fangs the angel had not seen in a very long time against the vein of his human body's throat. Despite either of them being unable to truly die from physical injury, Aziraphale still bit back a gasp at the warm line of flushed skin Crowley left in his trail.

_Oh, Almighty, he almost prayed that Heaven wasn't watching them._

A surprise to both of them, Aziraphale's hands were first to grip Crowley's shoulders a little bit tighter when the demon laid another kiss right above the pale blue collar and inhaled deep. Taloned hands ran down the tan coat to rest their tight grip on the angel's waist. Crowley's head rose up again to drag his nose over the skin of Aziraphale's neck into his hair, taking a deep sigh in the whole way. Up and down he went from there- nose, forehead, cheeks, everything of his, pressed flush against everything of Aziraphale's. He craved every inch of skin the angel had, his brain drowning in the intoxicating scent all around him. Angel's were supposed to be everything perfect, absolutely holy beings that could never make mistakes but Lord above, this was just _beyond perfect_. Crowley was pretty sure his wings were making their way out into the world as his mouth hung open to breathe in more, as much as he could, drool leaving damp spots in the angel's hair where his face burrowed. He wanted this scent, whatever it was, to be _his_ , he didn't know how, but it was all he needed forever for the rest of time. Just Aziraphale at his side in his life all around him _filling his head and lungs with the sweet and powerful stench of absolute fucking perfection-_

"Crowley," Aziraphale's gasp snapped the demons thoughts back to whatever mind he had left at the moment, as he suddenly realized he'd been pushing against the angel's head a little too rough. One hand- claws longer than ever- had come up to cup Aziraphale's face in his hand, holding him in place as he reveled in the scent of him. He forcefully retracted his claws back to human nails and cleared his tight throat.

"Oh... Yeah, uh," His hands begrudgingly let go of his angel, finding a new purpose of shoving themselves deep in his coat pockets. "Sorry about that. Guess I got a little carried away in myself..." His voice was weaker than he had hoped it would be.

"No..." Crowley's eyes met Aziraphale's, each of them wide with surprise.

"Oh?"

"I mean... I didn't mind. I just... feared what would have happened if I'd let you continue." The angel averted his gaze nearly reluctantly, taking in a deep breath of his own.

"Oh, don't worry angel, I wouldn't have... Done anything. Well, at least nothing more than whatever the fuck I already was."

"You were just scenting me, lots of demons do it."

It was Crowley's turned to look a mixture of surprised and confused at that statement.

"How do you know that?" _He hoped to Satan he didn't sound as jealous as he was._

"I've seen them do it. Angel's too. It's no big deal, it just happens kind of... Naturally, I suppose, whenever one finds something that, I guess _interests_ it enough."

Crowley forced a small smile upon his aching, craving lips.

"Oh, you're always so smart aren't you?"

Aziraphale smiled wide and joyous as usual, glistening white teeth exposed.

"I would hope so. I run a bookshop after all."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get cocky while you're at it Angel..." The demon forced his feet to turn himself away, taking a regretful slow step away from the angel and everything he ever wanted. His brain screamed at him to knock it off, _please, go back to that wonderful being and his magical aura of every craving he's ever had!_

"Crowley..."

_Oh, no, please don't tempt me, I won't stop next time, I'll mark you up and steal every ounce of your beautiful scent until it's gone, then beg you for more and never leave you alone,_ he thought.

"You don't have to stop, love."

_Bless Aziraphale for knowing so much. Damn him for knowing too much._ Crowley took a breath in and pivoted back around in his heels, claws tearing small holes somewhere in his pockets.

" _Really, Angel? Allowing yourself such temptation?"_

"It's not my temptation. It's yours. It's what you do. What kind of angel am I to allow a being to suffer?"

_Well... He had Crowley there, he supposed._

"...You sly bastard, you."

"Come here, darling."

The demon waisted no time greeting the angel's lips with his own. And he promised himself he'd patch up the claw sized holes in Aziraphale's oh so favorite jacket. _Later, at least..._


End file.
